


Stalker

by BigJellyMonster (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Mental Instability, Molestation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ratings: R, Romance, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2556944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/BigJellyMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry knew that someone was sitting next to him at the Quidditch World Cup. He knew and he should have said something but, he didn't. Now he can't keep his stalker away from him or, attacking someone for "touching what belongs to me." Harry is scared and he doesn't know who to trust anymore. Maybe, it could be alright if he just gave up and let his stalker win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I have never Written a story like this. I have no idea if I am good or not and would really appreciate it if you would leave me a review and tell me if i need to change anything.

The Quidditch World cup had been the most amazing thing Harry had ever experienced so far in his short life. Adrenalin pumped through his veins as he, Hermione, and the Weasleys joined the shouts and cheers that rose higher and louder as the game continued on

Sitting on the opposite side of him, was an empty seat, and a terrified house elf by the name of Winky. She only talked to them for a brief moment before going back to her position of shutting her eyes and holding onto her seat for dear life.

Harry felt knew there was something not right about the picture. Even though Winky claimed that she was only holding the seats for her master, Harry knew that there was something more to it. There was no way that anyone would go through all the trouble to buy two World Cup tickets, force their house elf to sit in them when she was afraid of heights, and then not bother to show up anyway.

Every now and again, he could swear that there was someone sitting in the empty seat next to him. Whether the mysterious presence was watching him, or the game Harry didn’t know, and didn’t care enough to voice his opinion. 

He was too engrossed in the match to have any care in the world. The audience cheered as Victor Krum caught the Golden Snitch and won the Quidditch World Cup. Harry had a smile on his face that refused to disappear, even after everyone went to bed.

As they were asleep loud booming noises appeared outside their tent. Harry thought that some rowdy witches and wizards were still celebrating. He was quickly proven wrong when he realized that he didn’t hear shouts of celebration, but screams of horror. Some wizards in strange masks had decided to throw their own celebration by tossing people in the air and setting tents on fire. People were running around screaming, and crying. Mr. Weasley had told them to stick together as they made their escape to the portkey.

They were pushed and shoved in every direction. Harry ended up separated from the group as he was shoved onto the ground by a terrified man trying to escape the chaos. Harry couldn’t pick himself up off the ground. Every time he tried some other person would somehow find him and end up accidently kicking him back down in their attempt to escape. Eventually, Harry was knocked out by a tent that had been thrown in the air and conveniently landing on top of him.

The darkness consumed him instantly. His senses ceased working and his thoughts never came. He laid there in the violence and the chaos until the fires had long since stopped burning, and the people had escaped to safety.

The first thing he noticed when he finally started to gain consciousness was the smell. It reminded him of the time that he, Ron and the twins had decided to light some fireworks but just ended up setting fire to the clothes that Mrs. Weasley had left on the clothes line. The smell overpowered all his other senses and made it difficult to catch his breath as he started coughing.

Second, he noticed the silence. Before, there was shouting and screaming and curses being thrown in every direction. He hoped he could hear someone searching for him but there was nothing. There wasn’t even the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.

Next was the cold. It was unnatural and seemed to surround him like a fog. The summer was not over yet, so the air should have not made him shiver like it did.

Finally, he opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The tents that were once so colorful and filled with laughter were now burnt to a crisp. Smoke and ash were still hanging in the air, and a bright green skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth was painted in the sky.

Harry slowly picked himself off the ground and, with difficulty, shoved the tent that knocked him out off of him and dusted himself off. His head ached, and his chest hurt from being knocked out. Surprisingly, his glasses were still on his nose and only slightly cracked. The silence became eerie when, somehow, he realized he was not alone. He could not see or hear anyone but, Harry knew that someone was watching him. He reached into his pocket where he was about to grab his wand. Before Harry pull it out, he felt another wand press against the back of his neck.

“Now what would you be doing out here when all the other fools have run away,” a rough voice asked making Harry’s blood run cold. “Turn around,” the voice commanded. Ever so slowly, he turned around to face his attacker.

“It’s you,” the man gasped, wand pointed at Harry’s chest. He was much taller than Harry. His clothes hung off him as if he had suddenly shrunk five sizes and hadn’t bothered worry about his clothes. “You’re still here,” he said almost to himself.

“Umm…yes,” Harry answered confused.

“Why are you still here? Why haven’t you run away in fear like those muggle loving fools,” the man spat. He circled around Harry, eyeing him up and down. “Answer me!”

“I was knocked out,” he said quickly.

“You were there… with the Bloodtraitors… I saw you… looked right at me,” the man seemed to stare at Harry as if the was the most interesting thing to have ever walked the earth. “You were sitting next to me. You looked right at me.”

Harry remained silent. He knew that there was no possible way for this man to have sat next to him. There was only Ron, and the house elf Winky. “Unless” he thought as he looked down at what the man was holding. It was a large silvery piece of fabric that looked similar to his invisibility cloak. “So there was someone sitting there.”

“Where are your friends,” the man asked still staring at him.

“Looking for me,” he knew that he shouldn’t let the man think that he is alone. Harry took a step back. “So, I’ll just be going now…”

“I can help you find them,” the man took a step forward, and lowered his wand. “There could still be Death eaters around and who knows what else.”

“No thanks. I can find them on my own.” Harry told him while taking another step back.

“Nonsense!” he said suddenly very chipper. The man stepped forward motioning for Harry to move as well. “Safety in numbers and all that, you know.”  He put his hand on Harry’s back to push him forward.

They fell in step beside each other, the man’s wand was still out and ready for any danger that they may face. Harry made sure not to walk to close to the possibly dangerous man. “What’s your name,” he asked.

“Bartemius Crouch Jr., sir, at your service. My friends call me Barty,” he said happily while giving a dramatic bow. “Now I already know your name but just as a formality, what’s yours?”

“Harry.” It was nice for Harry to be able to introduce himself for once, even if it was to a person as strange as him.  No one let him do it anymore. People were always so quick to prove that they knew his name that it got annoying.

“So, Harry, how did you enjoy the match?” Barty began twirling his wand in-between his fingers.

“It was okay…” he said unsure.

“Looked more than okay to me. It was brilliant that’s what it was. And to be able to watch it from so high up! You aren’t afraid of heights are you?”

“No. I play Quidditch.”

“Do you now? What position?”

Harry was quickly starting to become more comfortable with Barty. They chatted as they walked towards who knows where. Barty kept making jokes to lighten the awkward situation, making Harry laugh light heartedly.

“What were you doing up there in an invisibility cloak,” Harry finally asked curiously.

“My father doesn’t like the idea of people knowing I exist,” Barty said bitterly. “He put that damned house elf up there to make sure that I wouldn’t run off, or talk to anyone.”

“Why would he do that,” Harry asked.

“He thinks I make bad decisions and I can’t take care of myself.”

 “I know what you mean. My relatives did the same thing to me. Except they never took me with them when they did something fun like this.”

“Oh really,” Barty seemed to lose his chipper attitude.

“When I was still in grade school, I came home one day to find the entire house empty. It turned out; they had gone camping for the weekend and… forgot me. Although, they didn’t forget to lock up the food in case intruders came into the house.” Harry didn’t know why he was telling Barty this. He never talks about his home life to anyone. But, Harry felt like he could trust Barty although he didn’t know why. Harry frowned; he didn’t really want to think about his relatives.

Barty put a hand on his shoulder “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Harry gave him a small smile. “Don’t tell anyone about me either. Can’t have dear old dad know I’ve been talking about him behind his back if you know what I mean.”

Harry understood perfectly. He could remember countless times where he would be sick from not being allowed to eat or his uncle would beat him to hard or too long. “If you tell anyone ill make sure you get double next time,” his uncle would say.

“Yeah, I do,” Harry responded. Barty beamed at him and led them onwards.

Soon, Harry was telling jokes and happier stories with along with him. Harry still didn’t know exactly where they were going, but he trusted Barty to lead the way. Suddenly, Barty stopped them and put a finger to his lips.

Two loud voices could be heard arguing in the distance. As they were getting closer, Barty shoved Harry to the ground and got on top of him.

“What are you doing,” Harry whispered. Barty just shushed him, pulled the invisibility cloak over them, and wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist to keep him still. “Stop it. What if they are looking for…” Barty put his hand over Harry’s mouth to silence him.

They both laid there as silent as the dead, listening to the voices come closer.

“How much further?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ll never make it. We are going to Azkaban for sure.”

“Will you shut up!”

“What idiot decided to throw the Dark Mark into the sky? That wasn’t part of the plan. We are doomed! We are going to-“

“I said SHUT UP you IDIOT!” A loud slap echoed around them. “If you keep talking then they would have to be complete morons to not find us. I don’t want to fight a bunch of aurors, do you?”

“Yeah, youre right.” One of the voices started laughing. “Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to kill them? You know, for old times’ sake?”

Two men in masks stood only a few feet from where they were hiding. Under the invisibility cloak, Harry couldn’t breathe. The cold he felt before was replaced with the heat of their bodies pressed together. He felt Barty breathe on his neck, and his hand was still covering his mouth.

“Did you see that Potter kid,” the question made Harry freeze. “What do think the chances of us hitting him were?”

The taller one sighed “I don’t know you idiot.”

“If I killed him, I wouldn’t stop bragging about it. Could you imagine? Me? The one who killed the kid that blew up the Dark Lord?”

The taller man turned to the other one and growled “One more word and I kill you. Then I’ll start bragging that I FINALLY shut you UP!” The two masked men kept walking without another word.

Harry and Barty did not dare to make a sound until they were both out of sight. The heat under the cloak eventually became unbearable for Harry and he tried to wriggle his way out from under Barty. For some reason, Barty only increased his hold on Harry and wouldn’t let him go.

“You can let me go now,” He tried to say through Barty’s hand but it only came out as muffled noise.

“Didn’t you hear them?” Barty held onto Harry even tighter. “They were going to kill you. I saved you.”

Barty didn’t sound as friendly as he did before. In fact, he was starting to scare Harry.

“Let me go,” he tried to speak again.

Barty put his head in Harry’s neck. “I saved you. Don’t you get that? You can’t leave; they’ll find you and kill you.”

Harry began to struggle against Barty to try to escape but he was too strong for him. Harry bit down on his hand. Barty hissed and wrapped it around Harry, so he was using his whole body to keep him trapped.

“Barty let me go, I have to get back,” Harry tried to reason. “My friends are worried.”

“No…” Barty was quickly becoming frantic. “No, no, no they’ll send you back won’t they? They’ll send you back to your relatives. You don’t want to go back do you?”

“What are you talking about? Just let me go.” Harry was able to turn so that he was face to face with him and tried kicking his way out, but Barty pulled out his wand and said a spell that sent an electric shock through him, making him cry out in pain.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I’m so sorry,” Barty pleaded. “I didn’t mean to, but you can’t leave. They couldn’t protect you could they? They left you here! If I wasn’t here to save you, who knows what those men could have done to you!”

Harry was panicking now. This man was clearly insane, and he had him trapped. “No let me go!” Harry was struggling even harder to get out from under the dangerous man.

“No, you can’t leave. You can’t! Your _friends_ can’t take care of you! But, I can! We had so much fun together these last few hours.” Barty looked straight into Harry’s eyes. “Don’t leave me…”Barty then forced their mouths together.

“HMM!” Harry tried to push him off but he was too strong. The man took his hands within his own and forced them above his head. When he tried moving his head to the side, Barty just latched himself onto Harry’s neck and began sucking and biting. Screaming didn’t work either. His mouth was quickly filled with a gag thanks to Barty’s quick spellwork.

“Shhh,” Barty whispered. “They could find us. They could take you back.” He began grinding himself against Harry, making him try kicking his legs out against Barty to make him stop. “Please stop. I don’t want to hurt you again. I can make you happier than they can I’ll prove it” Harry didn’t listen. He continued to struggle against him, only succeeding in making Barty angry.

“Crucio.”

Indescribable pain unlike and Harry had ever felt, ripped through his entire body. He couldn’t remember where he was or what he was doing. Even his thoughts became painful to him.

When the curse was finally lifted, Harry found that his hands had been tied behind his back and his trousers where around his ankles. His legs had been forced apart as far as they would go with Barty grinding against him, both of their members in one hand. The other hand was on the back of Harry’s head, forcing it back so he could attack his throat again.

Harry screamed against his gag, and mentally pleading for the man to stop. Every time he struggled or fought back against him, the man would mutter the same awful curse again. Harry lost count how many times he cursed him, but he refused to give up. He was beginning to feel helpless as the man continued on as if Harry’s struggled were not discouraging him at all.

“It’s alright Harry. I won’t let them take you away. You won’t have to go back to them. we can stay together,” Barty whispered in his ear. “I’ll protect you, don’t worry.” He could hear the man moaning in his ear, and touching him. With every thrust, the man moaned louder and louder.

“Please help me,” Harry thought. “Anyone, anything, please...” He began to feel hopeless and started crying.

Finally, the man stopped and just lay on top of him. Harry could feel something hot in-between his legs. He had never felt so disgusted with himself in his entire life.

The man suddenly began laughing. He looked down at Harry with the same smile he had when Harry thought he was safe. “Oh yes… I’ll protect you Harry.” Began kissing and nibbling down his cheek. “I won’t let anyone else touch you.”

The man then pulled both his and Harry’s trousers back up. But, not before biting down on the inside of Harry’s leg, leaving a deep and bleeding mark behind.

Harry was sobbing into his gag, as Barty picked him up off the ground and forced him to stand. “Let’s go,” He commanded, while pushing his wand into Harry’s back to encourage him forward.

Barty kept his arm around him as they walked and keeping their heads close together in a mockery of two lovers out for a midnight stroll.

“We need to stick together and stay quiet,” Barty whispered to him. “Or else someone could find us, and take you away. I don’t know how many people I will be able to take if someone were to find us.”

Harry was revolted every time Barty would lean in close and whisper some sort of reassurance that they would be okay together in his ear. They hadn’t been walking for long when they heard more voices in the distance. This time, Harry recognized them.

“Harry!”

“Harry, where are you!” It was Ron and Hermione Calling his name. There were other people shouting as well, but Harry only recognized the voice of Mr. Weasley.

Apparently, Barty recognized one of the voices too, because he started saying “No, no, no! Not him, anything but him!”

Harry tried his best to push Barty away and make as much noise as he could to attract their attention. It must have worked because shouts of “Over Here! I heard something over here,” came from the other direction.

Barty spun Harry around and looked at him with pleading eyes. “Harry, why did you do that?” the voices started getting closer and closer. “I’m so sorry. I have to leave you. I can’t stay, but don’t worry! We will be together again.” With a forceful kiss against his gagged mouth, Barty threw the invisibility cloak over himself and vanished.

When they finally found Harry, he seemed to be paralyzed into staring at the spot where Barty had disappeared. Arthur Weasley had to verbally defend him against one man’s accusations that he had cast the Dark Mark in the sky.

When the man in questioned was introduced as Bartemius Crouch Sr., Harry leaned over and vomited his dinner in the grass. This man had to be Barty’s father; their names sounded so similar. Harry should have told him exactly what his son had been doing. But, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. The very thought of Barty made him shake with fear.

When the arurors surrounding them questioned him, they did it relentlessly. Uncaring that Harry looked as though he had just been tortured.

“Where have you been?”

“Why were you tied up?”

“Who did this to you?”

Harry couldn’t answer. The only thing he could do was point in the direction where he was attacked, and hope that they were able to find his attacker that was able to charm him so easily.


	2. The Burrow and a Sandwich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see anything wrong with this chapter, grammar or whatever please tell me i have no beta.
> 
> That being said i hope you enjoy and give an honest review. 
> 
> if you would like to message me my tumblr is Jojoisjelly.tumblr.com

            The Aurors hadn’t gone easy on him and continued to question him the next day, and the day after that. Mr. Weasley eventually threatened to cast some really nasty curses at them if they wouldn’t leave his house; he had asked them three times already. He was sitting in Ron’s room trying to distract himself by reading Quidditch thorough the ages for the thousandth time. It wasn’t helping, because he could still hear the shouting match going on down stairs.

“You’d think they would give up after all that yelling,” Ron said as he entered the room followed by Hermione. “I hope they don’t send more tomorrow.”

“You’d think,” Hermione said with a suspicious look towards Harry to refuse to look up from his over read book. “You’d think that they think you were hiding something."

“Oh come of it, Hermione. Don’t start interrogating him too.” Ron threw his pillow at Hermione’s face. “Can’t you see he’s had enough from those nosy Aurors.”

“Well why else would they keep coming back? Harry I don’t mean that you helped start a Death Eater invasion. I just think that maybe you are holding something back? Maybe you have some important little detail you forgot to mention and you don’t even realize it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ron asked while trying to get the pillow back from Hermione so he could hit her with it again.

“What? It happens on my mums investigator programs all the time! There is always one little clue missing that doesn’t seem important to the victim but means everything to the police!”

“What are the chances of that happening?”

“Pipes Ron! Remember the pipes?”

“Oh Merlin that was one time!” He shouted as Hermione hit him with his pillow.

“I don’t know what else I can tell them.” Harry sighed, finally shutting his book.

“Well what did you tell them?” Hermione asked, finally throwing the pillow across the room so neither one of them could get to it.

“The same exact thing I told you two.” He picked fetched the pillow from the floor. “When I woke up I was alone, and couldn’t find anyone anywhere. When I finally did find someone there were these two guys trying to sneak off into the woods before anyone caught theme there. They kept talking about fun it would be to torture muggles, and or how fan-fucking-tastc it would be to kill me. No, I didn’t see their faces. No, I have no idea who they are. Yes, I would love to help you in any way I can,” he finished sarcastically.

“Well, I’m sure they can put on their big boy pants and catch those guys themselves.” Ron went for the pillow in Harry’s hands but only ended up getting it shoved in his face.

“Come on you two, I think Mr. Weasley has scared them off by now, or Mrs. Weasley attacked them with a pan or something.” Hermione announced as she left the room.

Ron followed her but stopped by the door when Harry didn’t follow. “Coming?”

“No thanks. I’m not hungry.”

“Suit yourself. More for me,” Ron said unconvinced. Harry hadn’t been the same since he came back from the World Cup. He was afraid that his friends noticed too. Acting normal for the past few days had been tiring for him. The one thing he couldn’t hide, was the fact that he just wasn’t hungry. When he had first tried to eat something that morning after, he couldn’t swallow his food. Everyone just blamed it on the “terrifying experience of hearing Death Eaters talk about murdering you”. To him, it really wasn’t all that terrifying. After all, He got death threats more often than he was allowed to eat at the Dursleys.

He was sitting by the window in the living room when he felt it for the first time. Harry got a sudden chill and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Fred and George were busy trying to pick up the tiny pieces of Percy’s shirt they had accidently torn to shreds in one of their jokes. Percy was alright, but it looked like his shirt wouldn’t survive even with a little magical help from Mrs. Weasley.

Harry looked out the large window and onto the gnome-hole covered meadow and saw only what he usually saw. Mr. Weasley working on some muggle object in his shed. Ron was trying to play a one on one game of Quidditch with Ginny who was currently trying to get Hermione on a broom to help her win against him. There was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that should have made Harry feel as nervous as he did.

“Come on Percy! It was a joke!” George pleaded.

“We’re sorry!” said Fred. “We thought it would just turn it a different color honest.”

“That was absolutely not a joke! You could have killed me!”  The shirtless Percy pushed past Fred who was trying to block his path. “You saw the whole thing Harry, does this look like a joke to you,” he asked holding up some of the remains of his shirt. Harry’s attention was drawn away from the window and to the apparently life threatening situation he was presented with.  

After a week, the Aurors declared that they could get no more information from Harry and finally left him alone. He still had not eaten with the rest of the Weasleys, but he was pretty sure that Ginny was the one who was leaving him food by the door while everyone else was eating. She would have been the only one who would be too nervous to actually confront him about it. He was grateful and ate what he could, but he didn’t feel like he could go down there and eat with everyone else just yet. He felt… to dirty… to eat with them.

He heard a light knock at his door. Getting up from his bed he opened to find the usual basket of food at the edge of the door. Not seeing anyone he took the small basket of food and shut the door behind him. A note was left on the basket in small sharp letters. “I don’t know what you like but I hope you enjoy! Get well soon.”

Inside was a turkey sandwich, stuffed with everything he liked, except for the tomatoes, and a few biscuits.  After taking off the offending piece of fruit, he bit into the sandwich and savored every last second. He felt more comfortable eating in the room by himself at the moment rather than eating downstairs with everyone watching him.

“You’ll starve.” Hermione told him on the train ride to Hogwarts. “You’ll starve to death and at your funeral I’m going to tell everyone I told him so.”

“Hermione I’m fine really. I’ve been eating.”

“But, not with us.” She stared at Harry as he played a hopeless game of chess against Ron. “Sneaking off to get food is not something someone who is _fine_ would do.” Harry huffed at her. “See this is why they thought you were hiding something because _clearly_ you’re hiding something.” 

“Will you stop please?  Ginny has been bringing me food okay. I’m not starving. How many times do I have to say I’m fine before you stop asking?”

“When you mean it,” She glared.

“Check.” Ron announced.

“Well maybe I would mean if you’d stop annoying me with your constant pestering.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to keep pestering you if you’d stop acting like a child and tell us what’s wrong.”

“Check”

“Maybe I nothing is wrong. Maybe I am completely one hundred percent fine and you’re the one who is just being to nosey for her own good.”

“Says the boy who sticks his nose into everyone’s business and ends up who knows where battling who knows what kind of creature.” Hermione was starting to lose her temper.

“Hermione—“

“You haven’t been eating with us, Ron says you haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve been avoiding any real conversation with me.”

“Because you won’t DROP IT Hermione,” Harry snapped after glaring at Ron.

 “Checkmate,” Ron announced with an unapologetic grin. Hermione glared at him. “What?” he asked.

“If you won’t talk to us that’s fine, but you have to talk to someone.” Hermione pleaded with him.

“Yeah, _fine._ ” Harry sighed.

 Ron cracked a grin at Harry and mocked “ _fine._ ” Who was then hit in the face with the nearest book that Hermione could reach.

“Ow!”

“Tackless.” Hermione huffed.

The feeling was back. The one that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Harry looked out the carriage door to look for anything suspicious, but only found other students minding their own business. "It's nothing just your imagination," he told himself.

“Come on, we are nearly there.” Hermione called.

Closing the door and setting his attention back on his two friends, Harry had no way of noticing the man in the next carriage over staring at him through the wall with his large rotating magical eye.


	3. Potions and a Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me how i'm doing because i feel like this story kinda sucks

The arrival of the new defense teacher was met with a few screams. The enchanted ceiling of the great hall started storming above the students making a few duck under the table for protection. With a flick of his wand the enchanted sky turned back into a clear and starry night.

“That’s Mad-eye Moody!” whispered an excited Ron. “He used to be the best Auror there was.”

“What happened,” Hermione asked as she failed to fix her now wet hair.

“Went off the deep end I hear. That or he just got to old or something.”

Dumbledore was standing at his podium ready to address the students. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Mr. Filtch would like to remind you all that a list of items posted in his office have been banned-”

“Is he starring at you, Harry?” Hermione pointed at the new professor.

“Probably just star struck. Everyone gets that way when they first meet me.” Ron had to rub his arm where Hermione elbowed him.

Harry shushed them both and turned his attention back to the Headmaster. “This year, we will play host to two other schools where three lucky students will be selected to compete in the Triwizard Tournament and have a chance to win Eternal Glory!” Excited whispers were spread though the great hall. “Both schools will arrive in three weeks’ time. Until then I suggest we all tuck in.”  With a grand gesture of his hands, Dumbledore called forth the traditional Hogwarts welcome feast and the students began piling their plates. All except for Harry.

“I think I may have read about the Triwizard Tournament somewhere,” said Hermione watching Ron stuff his face with food.

“Before you ditch us and go running off to the library, can we please enjoy a good meal together, or anything that doesn’t involve the library? I just got here I don’t want to think about books.”

“Only if you eat like a decent human being. And it wouldn’t hurt you to come with me every now and then. Who knows you may actually learn something.”

Neville leaned over the table “like an old married couple these two. How was your summer Harry?”

Harry took his eyes off his bickering friends and tried to focus on Neville. “You know, boring as usual.”

Neville leaned in a little closer. “I heard you got mixed up in the Quidditch world cup business.”

“Who told you that?” Harry nervously looked around to make sure no one heard what Neville had said.

“Whoa calm down Harry. Gran is still in contact with some of dad’s old Auror Buddies. I don’t think anyone else knows. Why what happened?”

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Nothing really,” He lied. “The Auror seemed to think different though. They wouldn’t leave me alone for at least a week after.”

“Tough luck,” Neville gave Harry a sympathetic look before turning his attention back to his dinner.

Harry took his time and looked around the Great Hall. Everyone around him was either engrossed in their food or their conversation. Students were laughing, and sharing stories of things they did over the summer with their families. The teachers were either watching the students or speaking quietly to each other the only exception being the new professor who was staring at him.

For a brief moment Harry was unsure if the professor was actually staring at him or someone behind him. Three students at the next table were having a loud discussion over who played the most Quidditch over the summer, and were planning on having a contest the next weekend. One student was trying to balance a spoon on his nose to impress a girl who wasn’t paying even the slightest bit of attention to him.

The professor had not looked away from him. Uncomfortable, Harry shifted in his seat and tried to turn his attention back to his two bickering friends.

The feast ended and the students had made their way to their common room and started getting ready for bed.

“Eternal glory.” Ron looked dreamily into the distance. “I wonder what it would be like to be famous.”

“I’ll trade with you this second if you want.” Harry muttered.

“It can’t be all bad can it?” Ron said as if fame was obviously the best thing in the world.

“Oh, sure. Everyone is always staring at you like you’re some kind of freak or they want to twist some detail about you that makes you look like an idiot. It sounds like the best life ever.” Harry said sarcastically.

“Well maybe you just haven’t tried to enjoy it yet. I’m sure if you flaunt the Boy-Who-Lived at some girl she’d be all over you.”

“No thanks. I’m good.” Harry said before turning over in his bed, ending the conversation.

By lunch time the next day, all over the school was talk about how amazing the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is. Fred and George refused to give any real details about the mysterious teacher away.

“He’s just…wow…I mean we don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“That wouldn’t be right.”

“You’ll just have to see for yourself.”

“Oh come on,” Hermione complained. “Can’t you give us a hint?”

“Nope!”

“Not even a little one?” Ron asked.

“Not even if you were ten inches shorter and wore a pair of large red shoes.”

Ron blushed as Harry and Hermione laughed. Fred and George left them at the table with twin grins on their faces.

“We haven’t got him until tomorrow, and we still have Snape today.” Ron groaned.

“Come on then, we better get going or we’re going to be late.” Hermione grabbed her bag and led the other two out of the great hall.

The Dungeons were just as dark and damp as they have always been. The classroom was filled with students quietly getting ready for class or whispering to one another so they wouldn’t draw Professor Snape’s attention.

“Turn in your summer homework on my desk and return to your seat.”  Snape announced at the start of the lesson. The students lined up and one by one placed their homework on Snape’s desk. Harry was on the receiving end of a glare when he turned in his. “I heard you took some drastic measures to get a little attention at the Quidditch World Cup. Did you think that if you found a Death Eater he was going to play a game of chess with you?”

Harry’s face turned white. The classroom fell silent; the Slytherins eager to listen to Snape torment Harry.

“Eager to get some attention were you?”

“No, sir.”

“I doubt that. Was the crowd not paying enough attention to you? Had to get some of the fame and glory for yourself?” Snape watched for any sign of reaction from the boy but he refused to look up at the professor.

Harry felt sick. Without a word in reply, Harry made his way back to his seat next to Neville.

“You okay Harry?” Neville asked. “You don’t look so good.” Harry could only nod in response as they started their first Potions lesson of the school year.

Snape did not go easy on any of them. They had to review every single potion they made last year and finished with a test on the ingredients on each one of them. Except for Draco Malfoy, not one student left the classroom in a good mood.

“You’ve taken a special interest in Death Eaters, Scarhead?” Malfoy taunted. “I thought you’d go for a lower class of witch. All that time with Granger give you change of heart?”

“Ignore him, Harry.” Hermione steered him away.

“I’m sure if the Dark Lord ever returns he would love to introduce you to a few.” Malfoy laughed at the three Gryffindors.

Ron flipped off the blond before turning to Harry “What the hell does he know? Snape was a complete git for bringing up the cup-hey!” Harry had pushed past them.

“I’ll see you two later.”

“Wait where are you going?” Hermione called after him, but he didn’t respond.

Harry found the nearest empty bathroom and emptied his stomach out in one of the toilets.

“What the hell _do_ they know?” he thought to himself.  “Is that why those Aurors asked so many questions? Do they really know what happened?” Harry felt himself grow sick again, “Oh merlin,” and vomited again.

He had hoped that he could forget that the entire thing happened but Snape bringing up him and the world cup and Malfoy suggesting…

How was he supposed to get through the year if people kept bringing it up? Even if they didn’t know the truth about what happened at the World Cup, he would. He would never be able to forget it now.

Harry didn’t reappear until after dinner. By that time, both of his friends had become worried sick.

“Harry! There you are. Where have you been?” Hermione asked.

“Around,” Harry responded.

“Are you okay? You made us worried.”

“You made _her_ worried.” Ron interjected

“Fine _I_ was worried.”

“Well don’t I’m fine.” Harry took out his Potions book and started on his homework.

“You say that but you don’t act like it!” Hermione took his potions book away from him to get his attention.

“Give it back Hermione.” Harry demanded.

“Did you even think about what I told you? Will you talk to someone?”

“Hermione I will talk to someone if I bloody well want to. Either shut the hell up about it or _fuck off_.” Harry ripped his potions textbook out of her hands, took the rest of his belongings and stormed up to the boy’s dorm. Two worried looks followed him up the stairs.

That night Harry had a nightmare. Something was chasing him through the Forbidden Forest. The noises it made caused Harry to cover his ears it was so loud. Whatever it was, it was running faster than he was. His legs had already begun getting tired. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up.

“Over here!” A voice shouted. A door with a bright light shining through stood alone in the dark forest. “Quickly!” It shouted again.

Harry raced as fast and far as his legs would take him. With a loud roar from the creature, Harry jumped through the door and it slammed behind him. It took him a moment to catch his breath. The light surrounding him was blinding and hot.

“I told you I’d protect you.” The voice said.

Harry’s blood suddenly ran cold. He knew that voice. Looking up, he saw tents blazing with fire surround them.

Barty slowly walked closer to him. “You’re alright.” He said relieved. “I told you I would protect you.”

 Harry sprinted as fast as he could, and leaped between an opening he found between the blazing tents. The fire burned him. There was no escaping Barty. He could hardly make it between two tents without getting burned, and it seemed the more he ran the closer Barty got to him. He ran, and jumped and crawled through every obstacle he came across. Finally, it became too much. He was too tired to run anymore.

“Harry!” Barty called as if they were playing a game. “Where are you?”

There was nowhere to hide, and he had no more energy to run.

“There you are.” Barty appeared from inside the flames as if he didn’t notice they were there. “I told you we would be together again.”

“No go away.” Harry told him. “Please just go away.”

“Harry, don’t tell me that! I’m trying to save you. Just look.” He picked Harry from off the ground and held him close. The heat from the fire suddenly increased to an unbearable limit.

The smoke from the flames made it hard to breathe. “Let me go,” He pleaded. Barty’s response was only to squeeze him tighter causing him to choke. “No… Please stop!”  

The heat from the flames grew hotter and hotter until Harry found himself looking at the dormitory ceiling sweating, and gasping for breath.

Harry untied himself from his bed sheets and tried to stop his heart from racing out of his chest. His dorm mates were still sound asleep in their beds, undisturbed by their dreams. Having no plans to go back to sleep tonight, Harry quietly crawled out of bed and went to sit next to the cool window and took his unfinished potions homework with him. Ron’s snores were as loud as ever and provided easy cover for the sound of his quill scratching the parchment. It was going to be a long night for Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. The Unforgivable and a Bright Blue Potion

The next day, the three friends sat waiting in excitement for their new defense teacher to start their first lesson. Ron kept listing every detail he overheard about Professor Moody, true or not.

“He can see through walls with that eye of his. Probably even the back of his head… or maybe,” Ron looked over at Parvati with a grin on his face.

“Ronald, knock it off!” Hermione scolded. “Besides there is no way that is true, it’s just a rumor.”

The new professor made his entrance in the room with a loud CLUNK.CLUNK.CLUNK.

“Books away,” He commanded. Excited students followed his instructions. “I’ve heard that you all have been lacking in efficient teachers.”

“Professor Lupin-” one student interrupted.

“Was only teaching you about the magical creatures you need to watch out for. Not the spells you need to defend yourself from.” The professor turned his back to the class and began writing on the board. “You need to learn to defend yourself. You need to know why. You need to find another place to put your gum Mr. Finnigan.” The professor said without turning back around.

“How did he know?” Harry heard a student whisper.

Ron turned to Hermione and mouthed “I told you so!”

Moody turned to face the classroom. “The Unforgivable Curses. Some of the strongest weapons in the previous war. The very name of the curses made those wizards with a weaker stomach afraid of those who could cast them. Who can tell me what the first curse is?”

Hermione’s hand shot straight into the air.

“Yes, Ms…”

“Granger, sir. The imperious curse. The user controls the mind of his victim, and can make them do anything the user wishes. When the curse is lifted the victim has no memory of what they did while under the curse.”

“Excellent work Ms. Granger ten points to Gryffindor,” Moody praised. “That’s exactly right. This curse actually wasn’t used as often in the last was as the ministry records would like you to believe.” He reached into a large glass jar and took out a large spider , much to Ron’s horror. “Many unmarked followers of the Dark Lord would claim that their actions under his orders were caused by the imperious curse.”

Moody pointed his wand at the spider and said clearly “Imperio.”

The spider jumped from the professors hand and onto the table. He made it crawl onto the nearest students shirt and leaped onto the next one’s head. Most of the class was in a laughing fit while Ron’s face was getting whiter and whiter.  The laughter increased as moody made the spider tap dance on Seamus’ desk.

“Yes, yes, hilarious isn’t it. It’s fun to watch something forced to do something it doesn’t want to do isn’t it? Just as fun as it would be to watch them drown themselves?” the spider hovered over a bucket of water. “Perhaps when the hurl themselves out a window?” the spider threw itself at the window. No one was laughing now. “How about when you watch them kill their family? Is it funny then?”

The spider returned to the professors’ hand. “Can anyone tell me the second curse?”

Surprisingly, Neville Longbottom’s hand was raised.

“You’re Mr. Longbottom correct?”

“Yes, sir… is it the Cruciatus curse,” he asked nervously.

“Correct. The Torture Curse.”  The spider was placed on the table in front of him. “Crucio.”

If spiders could scream, everyone’s ears would be hurting at that moment. Some students looked away, some couldn’t look away, and some like Harry and Neville, looked as if they would pass out at any second.

“Stop it! Can’t you see it’s bothering them? Stop!” Hermione shouted.

The curse was broken and the spider seemed to physically relax. Harry was shaking, and thought he was going to be sick.

“Can anyone tell me what the last curse is.” No one answered. “No one? _Avada Kedavera_.” There was a flash of bright green light and the spider fell dead. “The Killing Curse. There has been only one known person to survive it. And he is sitting in this room.”

The class filed out of the room one by one. Each student was assigned to read the first chapter of their defense book by the next lesson.

“That was completely unnecessary,” Hermione fumed. “He didn’t have to actually use the curses did he? I mean I understand demonstrating some curses, but those are extremely dark! Isn’t it illegal to show them in a classroom?”

“I bet no one would grasp just how dangerous they are if he didn’t show us,” Harry reasoned.

“You can’t be serious. What if something went wrong what if-”

“What if a giant basilisk roamed the school or the professor is really an evil and powerful wizard in disguise?  Dangerous things happen to us all the time Hermione. It’s about time we got some actual warning before we get thrown into the next big thing we have to face.” Ron argued.

“Maybe you’re both right. I mean he was one of the best Aurors so he must know what he is doing. Oh. Hello Neville.”

Neville was standing next to the window in the hall way, staring out at the foggy courtyard.

“Oh hello, wonderful day isn’t it? Really wonderful day.” Neville said apathetically.

“Neville are you alright? You don’t look so good.” Hermione was right, Neville was pale and he was still shaking from the professors’ lesson. Heavy footsteps could be heard from around the corner.

“I’m fine perfectly fine. Wonderful even.” Neville told them. Harry wasn’t convinced. Neville looked just as Harry felt.

Professor Moody walked around the corner and saw the four students chatting in the hall. “Longbottom, come with me. Potter you better come too.” Moody told them before walking back in the direction of his office.

“Want us to wait,” Ron asked reluctantly. Lunch was waiting for him in the Great Hall.

“No it’s fine. You guys go on.” Harry waved goodbye before following the professor, and Neville.

Moody’s office was cluttered with strange trinkets. Nether of the boys had any clue what anyone of them did.

“Sit.” He commanded them. They sat in the leather chairs on the opposite side of the professor’s desk. “Some areas of Defense Against the Dark arts can effect some students more than others. I wanted to warn you both and make sure you were prepared for the lessons to come.”

“I’m sorry sir I don’t what came over me.” Neville mumbled.

“Yes you do lad let’s not lie about that.” Tea appeared in front of them. Harry looked confused between the two of him, and felt like he was missing something. “I heard you have a talent for Herbology.”

This must have been the right thing to say because Neville perked up instantly. “Really, sir?”

Moody gave him a large and dusty book. “You might want to read this. An old friend gave this to me. Thought I might like it but it interests me about as much as dirt does. Haven’t even looked at it in years.”

“Magical Waterplants?” Neville beamed. “Can I really borrow this?”

“Keep it. I’m never going to look at it. Now run along you don’t want to miss lunch.”

“Wow thanks, sir!” Neville said goodbye to both of them before running off to lunch, leaving the two of them to sit in silence.

Harry curiously looked at a large circular glass object next to the office door.

“That’s a foe glass.” Moody explained. “It tells me when enemies are near. If I can see the whites of their eyes they’re standing right behind me.”

Harry didn’t understand why Moody was telling him any of this. He felt uncomfortable in the same room as the professor at the moment. He still had the memory of the cruciatus cure fresh in his mind.

“Here drink this.” Moody pulled out a vial with bright blue liquid inside and handed it to him.

“What is this,” Harry asked.

“Calming Draught. You still look shaken up. It calms the nerves. Helps you relax.”

Harry, unsure but trusting the man who was handpicked by Dumbledore to be his teacher, drank the potion. It tasted like liquid metal but he instantly he felt better. His hands stopped shaking, the color returned to his face, and he didn’t feel like he should run for the door at the next opportunity.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable in class today using you as an example for the killing curse. I tend to get a little dramatic in my teaching I’m told.”

“You’ve taught before?” Harry asked interested.

“Trained the new Auror recruits just out of school. You see, books and homework can only get you so far in the real world. They needed to have some real experience to be able to survive an attack form a rouge wizard or a Death Eater.”

“So, what would you do?”

“Duel the shit out of them of course. Not many are better at it than me. A few spells were off the table, but others? You’d see who was meant for desk work or the field in less than five minutes.”

“That sounds really cool actually.”

“I dueled your father once. He ended up tripping me and tossing my wand clear across the room. Nearly broke the thing. Almost took my other eye out along with it.”

“You knew my father,” Harry was at the edge of his seat.

“He was one of the best there was.” Moody grined.

The two of them chatted about Aurors and Harry’s father through lunch. To Harry’s surprise, Moody summoned a house elf to bring them something to eat for lunch. The only reason Harry left was the bell had rung for students to get to their next class.

“May I come back?” Harry asked. “I’d like to hear more stories.”

“Of course. My door is always open just… keep this between us. I don’t want anyone to think I’d gone soft.” Harry left and Moody shut the door behind him.

The professor walked back over to his desk and pulled open the drawer with numerous vials of the bright blue liquid. Underneath he pulled out an old book titled _Darkest Arts: Binding Potions._

“Maybe I used too much?” he mumbled to himself.

He turned to a page he had bookmarked that read.

**_Intimam Conexionem_ **

_Intimam Conexionem creates a dominate and submissive relationship between two people._

_Directions: Intimam Conecionem needs to be taken no more or less than once a week by both subjects until full effect desired. The longer the potion is taken the stronger the effects are on the subjects. Once the desired amount of doses have been taken, proceed with the ritual provided on page 358. Instructions for brewing the potion are on page 357._

_Warnings: Skipping doses or taking too many at once could lead to headaches, nausea, fever, or death. Subjects should take no more than-_

“He’s fine.” Moody said confidently. Moody opened one of the blue bottles and drank it. Then he put the book back where he found it and locked the drawer. “He is going to be just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everyone who has been leaving reviews. I totally would not keep updating if it wasn't for you.  
> I realize that Barty/Harry is not a popular pairing but it has always been one of my secret favorites. I hope to write one eventually that is not so creepy.  
> please tell me if i need to change anything.  
> thanks for reading!
> 
> I got the translation for the potion off of google translate. I know. Classy right?


	5. Imperio and The Goblet of Fire

The foreign schools had arrived late. Every Hogwarts student greeted them with cheer and celebration. Ron would not stop talking about Victor Krum and how perfect he is since the minute he got off the boat. Hermione eventually got fed up with him and started explaining to a curious Neville which country each dish came from at the welcome feast for the other schools. In fact, most people were listening to Hermione rather than listen to another story about Krum from Ron.

Harry made it a point to at least look like he ate something. His friends were too occupied with their conversations to notice if anything was amiss. The feast lasted until it was almost curfew and Dumbledore called everyone to bed. Students lined up to exit the Great Hall but, a group of students from the foreign schools stopped at the entrance.

“What is going on?” Ron asked annoyed. The students were staring and pointing at Harry.

“Alright you’ve seen him. You’re all blocking the exit so keep moving!” Professor Moody barked at them. Some of the students started moving again and left the great hall. Others cleared a path so they could see The-Boy-Who-Lived as he walked by. Ron looked irritated by the whole thing.

“Can’t they just mind their own business?” he grumbled.  The Durmstrang headmaster wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was glaring at Harry and his scar. 

“Is there a problem Karkaroff,” Moody challenged.

The Durmstrang headmaster coughed and averted his eyes. “No,” he bit out.

“Good. Keep it that way.” Moody led Harry out of the Great Hall and down an empty corridor, his friends following behind him. Harry had visited the professor at least once a week since school started. He would feel nervous at first, hardly knew anything about the professor but, Moody would always offer him tea and then he would feel like them talking was the most normal thing in the world.  Ron and Hermione did not know that they had been spending any more time together, so they were confused as to why Harry would let Moody lead him away so easily.

“Don’t trust that man, Harry” Moody told him when he finally got him away from prying ears.

“What do you mean professor?” Hermione asked.

“That man was once a Death Eater. He avoided Askaban by giving the ministry the names of some of the unknown Death Eaters at the time.” Moody did not sound happy about that.

“But he is the headmaster of Durmstrang. He must have been cleared of his charges or switched sides.” Hermione argued.

“Severus Snape was once a Death Eater, girl. Do you think that he wouldn’t run straight to the Dark Lord if he ever returned?” Moody’s eye spun around in his head. “Anyway, you better get back to your dorm” Moody left the three friends to make their own way back.

“Snape was a Death Eater? No wonder he is so evil. Voldemort probably told him to give us a bad grade in potions,” Ron joked.

“It’s not funny Ronald. Dumbledore trusts professor Snape even if he was a Death Eater. We should have a little faith in him.” Hermione lectured.

“Fine, yeah, whatever. But, What about Karkaroff? We don’t know him.” Ron pointed out.

“Didn’t you see him with Headmaster Dumbledore ay the feast? They looked like old buddies to me. I think Professor Moody is a bit paranoid if you ask me.”

“Dumbledore has been wrong before,” Harry said strangely irritated.

“Dumbledore has more experience with these kinds of things. We have to put our trust in him,” Hermione tried to reason.

“How much trust, Hermione? Every time I trust him to keep me safe he falls short.” Harry snapped.

“Maybe if you didn’t rush head first into danger then it might be a little bit easier to keep you safe.” Hermione argued.

“So it’s my fault that there was a giant basilisk trying to attack the students? It was my fault that there were Dementors in the school? It was my fault that Voldemort decided to leach himself off the back of our old defence teacher’s head?” Harry’s voice grew louder and louder as he spoke.  He didn’t understand why he was so angry. None of this bothered him before, or maybe he had never thought about it before. His temper must have surprised his friends because they both looked at him with confused expressions.

“Blimey Harry. It not good to keep all of that bottled up.” Ron said after his initial shock.

“Yeah… right.” Harry didn’t look at either of them. They were finally at the portrait of the Fat Lady and after Hermione gave the password, climbed in and set for a quiet night.

The next defense class was an event that none of the students would ever forget. The classroom was arranged so the desks were stacked against the wall and there was plenty of room for the students to move around.

“Although the ministry would tell you otherwise, you need to know how to defend yourself against the imperious curse. The easiest way would be just do avoid the damn thing altogether. But, that’s not how life works. So, you are all going to line up and, one by one, are going to see how well you can fight it off.”

Each student did as they were told and formed a line. Poor Neville was first to go. Moody had him act like a chicken and cluck at some of the girls in the class. When the curse was removed his face turned a dark shade of red when the class told him what he had done.

Hermione had to sing her favorite song in a key that was much too low for her, Seamus did an interpretive dance, and Dean Thomas recited Shakespeare while trying to spin on his toes. It was finally Harry’s turn when Ron picked himself off the ground after an interesting squid impersonation.

“Imperio,” Moody casted and Harry felt his mind go blank. “Jump on the table,” He heard a voice say. His legs bent ready to jump.

“But why,” he questioned. “What’s the point?”

“Jump on the table,” the voice commanded harder.

“That sounds stupid,” he told it. “I don’t want to do that.” Harry tried to jump on the table and at the same time, tried to prevent himself from doing it. The only thing he managed to do was slam his head onto the table.

“Well done! Did you see that everyone?” Moody walked over to Harry and helped him off the floor, keeping his hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. “Potter nearly had it! Come on Potter, ready yourself. Let’s see if you can’t throw it off completely.”

Moody made him throw off the curse three more times before he was satisfied. “That’s all for today everyone. We will pick up where we left off next time. Class dismissed.”

Ron and Harry followed Hermione out the door. The air between them seemed to have completely changed since the night before.

“How did you do that?” Ron wondered out loud.

“I didn’t even know he put me under the curse until it was over. How did you do it?” Hermione gave him a look that Harry knew meant that she was going to bug him about it until he gave her an answer she was satisfied with.

“I’m not sure. One minute it feels like I’m floating and the next, I’m being to jump on the table which sounded ridiculous to me.” Harry explained.

“Yes, and?” Hermione prodded.

“And what? That’s it. It sounded ridiculous so I didn’t want to do it.” Harry said flatly.

Hermione raised her eyebrow in disbelief. “That can’t be it.”

“Well that’s all I know. If I know more believe me I would tell you but I don’t.”

“Maybe the Unforgivable Curses just don’t affect you as much as the rest of us. I mean you survived the killing curse, and you can easily throw the imperious curse with practice. All someone has to do now is hit you with a crucio to see if-”

“No Ron. That’s a horrible idea.” Hermione scolded.

“Yeah, shut up weasel. No one wants to hear your opinion, or your voice.” Malfoy mocked from behind them.

“What do you want Malfoy,” Hermione sighed.

“Don’t speak to your betters like that mudblood. Someone will have to teach you a lesson.”

“Your right Malfoy,” Harry said kindly making Ron, and Hermione look at him in surprise. “She meant, fuck off you incestuous freak.” Harry smiled in mock politeness. The students around them who heard either laughed or had their mouths hanging open.

“You’ll regret that Potter,” Malfoy snarled as he pulled his wand out.

 A curse was on his lips when a small voice shouted, “MR.MALFOY!”

“I can’t have a pleasant conversation with Professor Moody without you attacking another student?” Professor Flitwick scolded as he marched over to Malfoy. “Thirty points from Slytherin! Come with me.”

“But, professor he—“

“No excuses! Follow me.” Professor Flitwick walked off and Malfoy sluggishly followed behind him.

“Well that was convenient,” Ron laughed. “That was hilarious Harry.”

 “That was really harsh,” Hermione could not hold back a smile. “The look on his face…”

“I’ll never forget it.” Ron grinned. “That memory is going right next to the one of you punching him in the face ‘mione.”

Except for the odd mention of the events outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the rest of the day seemed boring. However, later that night, Harry received a letter from his Godfather.

_Dear Harry,_

            _I’m glad school has been going well for you so far. Alastor Moody was definitely a tough teacher. I’m sure he will go easier on you than he did on me and James in the Academy. How do the other schools look? What are the students like? I’ve heard that Victor Krum is hoping to compete for Durmstrang._

_Hoping you all the best,_

_Padfoot_

“He sounds okay at least,” Hermione commented after she read the letter.

“How could he be okay?  He is living like a hermit,” Harry worried.

“He will be fine Harry. He isn’t a child he can take care of himself. Hermione comforted. Harry wasn’t convinced, and continued to worry the rest of the night.

His dream started off relatively normal. He had been following a miniaturized hippogriff around the school because it promised to show him the way to his transfiguration class. Although he was pretty sure professor McGonagall wouldn’t hold any lesson down in the dungeon, it seemed to be where it was leading him.

When the miniature hippogriff finally stopped, it was at a door unlike any Harry had seen at Hogwarts. It looked like it belonged at an old house rather than in a dungeon. The hippogriff flew away leaving Harry standing alone in the dark hallway. Already fearing the wrath of this professor for being late, Harry quickly and quietly slipped through the door.

Inside he did not see a classroom filled with students or and irritated professor. Instead a dusty front room to what looked like an old house greeted him. A light shown down from the second floor, and was the only light source in the old and musty house.

He slowly climbed the staircase, disturbing the dust as he went. His body felt slow and heavy, like it was made of metal. Voices could be heard coming from an open door at the top of the stairs.

“M-my lord, t-there is more in the bottle if you are hungry,” a squeaky voice said fearfully.

“That is all Wormtail,” a hoarse and high pitched voice commanded. The voice sent chills up Harry’s spine, and he was sure he had heard it somewhere before.

“My lord, it is almost time for the Triwizard Tournament to begin,” A new voice that Harry recognized instantly informed.

“Do not curse the goblet until the time is right. Too early and someone will notice,” Harry heard shuffling through the door.

“Does anyone suspect you,” the high pitched voice questioned.

“No, my lord.”

“Good. Watch the boy, but do not get too close to him. I don’t want a chance for anyone to suspect you.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Harry felt something slide across his feet. A large snake slithered through the door and up onto the back of an old arm chair. “Nagini tells me that the old care taker is at the door.” The high pitch voice told the other two in the room. There was a sound of movement and then Wormtail stood before him. “Don’t be rude, invite him in.”

Wormtail grabbed him by the neck and shoved him in the room, placing him in front of the fire place. Before him sat a grotesque creature wrapped in an old cloth. “Who the hell are you people,” he heard himself say in a voice not his own.

“Shut your mouth filth,” Wormtail commanded him.

“Wormtail, be respectful to the muggle, he is our guest,” the creature mocked.

“Muggle? What’s that? Is that an insult? I don’t know who you people are, but I am calling the police, you are trespassing on private property.” Harry felt his mouth say again without any invitation from him.

“Police? I’d like to see what they could do. I’ll like have a little fun with them. I haven’t gotten to play with a muggle in so long,” Barty taunted.  

“You’ll just have to wait Barty. We will have all the time in the world for that later,” the creature’s grotesque face smiled. “Avada Kedavera!” For Harry, everything turned bright green and then dark.

There was nothing around him. No air, no light, no sound except the sound of him and someone else breathing. He turned around and saw Barty standing directly behind him. His eyes roamed over Harry’s body like he was trying to memorize every detail about him.

“What are you doing here? Where are we,” Harry demanded.

“Where ever you want to be,” Barty answered.

“I _want_ to be away from _you_ ,” he snarled.

“Oh my love it doesn’t work that way,” the man replied as if Harry had told a joke. “We are becoming closer and closer every day. I can’t just leave now. Not when you need me.”

“What do you mean,” Harry stepped back from him.

Barty just smiled. “Where do you want to be right now? Think of anywhere that makes you happy. Any place at all.”

Harry still didn’t want to be anywhere near the crazy man but, a memory had found its way into the front of his mind. They were suddenly back at the Quidditch World Cup. Harry sat next to Hermione and the Weasleys. The crowed was going insane over the two teams. People cheered, laughed, and smiled at one another. Harry remembered this being a perfect moment before everything went wrong for him.

“A fantastic choice, Harry,” Barty praised. “This is a fond memory of mine as well.” He sat next to Harry and was looking at the intense Quidditch match. Winky sat on the other side of him, shaking from her fear of heights just as Harry remembered. “She really wasn’t all that bad you know. Except of course when she helped my father keep me locked up,” Barty informed him.

“I don’t want to share this memory with you,” Harry glared.

“Oh, but you already did! Remember? I was under the invisibility cloak the whole time. I sat and watched you most of the game. You were far more interesting at the time. You really don’t like that Malfoy boy do you?”

Harry turned away from him and tried to pretend he wasn’t there. That this really was just him enjoying the world cup with his friends. Not him sitting next to an insane death eater who was apparently very interested in him.

The crowd suddenly let out either a loud cheer or shouts of disapproval. “Did you see that?!” Barty shouted excitedly. “I bet you could do that. I’ve heard so many stories about how well you fly on a broom.”  He nudged Harry with his elbow.

Barty seemed to finally notice that Harry was forcefully ignoring him. “Alright so this wasn’t the first date. Technically this wasn’t even our first date, the real thing was. Even then you didn’t even know I was there so…” Barty grabbed Harry’s hand and took it in his own. “I’ll take you dancing or something. People do that on first dates don’t they? Maybe I’ll show you how to ride other kinds of brooms-”

“SHUT UP, JUST SHUT UP!” Harry stood up and ripped his hand out of Barty’s in anger. At the same time, the entire stadium was empty. The only two people left were the two of them. “I don’t like you, I don’t want to be with you, and I want you OUT of my dream so LEAVE!” Harry was done playing games with this creep. He wasn’t going to let the memory of him control his life anymore.

Barty’s cheery attitude vanished and stood up to tower over Harry. “You do not get to command me boy.” He grabbed him by his collar and shoved him so the top half of his body was hanging over the edge of the railing. Looking down, Harry saw just how far of a fall he would have to make if Barty were to let go. Harry refused to show fear just yet. He glared at Barty even though he held his life literally in his hands.

“The only person who may command me in the Dark Lord, not you. Especially not you,” Barty growled.

“Then go bother him in his dreams and leave me alone,” Harry retorted. Barty looked as if he got slapped. His hands loosened their grip on Harry’s shirt and he began to slip.

“This has to be a dream,” Harry thought frantically. “If not I’m about to die.” Harry looked down and the seemingly endless stadium. “If this really is just a dream then all I need to do is…” Harry pushed with all of his strength against Barty and jumped over the railing. He could hear Barty’s shouts of protest above him. The wind rushed past him, his heart pounding with fear , and right before he finally hit the ground he found himself sitting straight up in his bed.

His shirt was sticking to him with sweat. He reached over to his bed side and grabbed his glass of water. He felt as if he hadn’t had a sip of water in days. Thankfully he hadn’t woken up anyone else in the dorm with his nightmare.

“What the hell,” He thought. “That felt too real.”

He looked over at Ron who was peacefully snoring away. “Maybe they were right. I’m too paranoid. It’s starting to affect my dreams.” In another part of the school Barty Crouch Jr. was making another batch of a bright blue potion, frustrated because it wasn’t working fast enough.

It was a week later when the three schools gathered in the great hall to pull the names out of the Goblet of Fire. The Goblet sat in the middle of the students lit with a blue flame. Students chatted in hushed voices, eagerly waiting for the ceremony to start.

Albus Dumbledore approached the Goblet of Fire and raised both his arms. Every other light in the room dimmed making the students stop all conversations. “The time has come to puck the three champions. I know how excited you all are to get started so I will not waste your time with any long speech,” a few people chuckled “and draw the first name.”

Dumbledore stretched his hand out towards the goblet , and the blue flame turned red and shot out a small piece of paper. The paper floated straight into Dumbledore’s outstretched hand and he read out loud “The champion for Durmstrang is Victor Krum.” Loud cheering from the Durmstrang students followed Krum as he exited into the trophy room.

The Goblet of Fire turned red again and another paper floated into Dumbledore’s hand. “The champion of Beaubaxon is Fleur Delacour!” Again, loud cheering followed the champion as she exited into the trophy room.

Another red flash and Dumbledore called out the last name “The Hogwarts Champion… Is Cedric Diggory!” The noise the Hogwarts students made was deafening . it the teachers several minutes to calm the students down. “Yes, well done champions! I’m sure you all want to discuss tonight’s events and celebrate, so we are going to…”

Unexpectedly, the Goblet of Fire turned bright red again. However, this time the flames were much bigger and seemed to be fighting with itself. Some students screamed in fear while others looked on in awe. Finally, another small piece of paper was shot out of the goblet and slowly fell until it was caught by the Headmaster.

Everyone in the great hall held their breath. Reading the name on the paper seemed painful to the old man as he quietly called out “Harry Potter.”

Harry, who had been nearly standing, shrunk back down into his seat and tried to hide from everyone’s stares. Dumbledore yelled this time “HARRY POTTER!”

He felt someone push him forward so he would get out of his failed hiding spot. Dumbledore handed the piece of paper to him when he walked over to the headmaster and pointed him in the direction of the trophy room. Students openly glared at him as he walked by. He heard some say “He’s a cheat,” or “He shouldn’t be allowed to compete!”

As he reached the trophy room, Fleur stood up and asked curiously “Do they want us back in ze great hall?”

“Well I wouldn’t have believed it unless I was there,” Bagman said oddly cheery as he entered the room. “Lady and Gentlemen may I present out forth champion?”

“But, you must be joking,” Fleur said outraged. “ ‘e is but a little boy!”

“Little boy,” Harry though irritated.

The minister, the three headmasters, Moody, Snape, and McGonagall all piled into the room. They stood around and shouted at each other, pointing fingers at him and demanding a redraw. Finally Dumbledore drew the attention to him and asked Harry calmly, “Did you put your name in the goblet of fire?”

“No,” Harry admitted.”

“Did you ask anyone else to do it for you,” he asked again.

“No,” Harry said a little more forcefully.

“But of course ‘e is lying,” The headmistress complained.

“The Goblet of Fire is and exceptionally powerful object. Only an equally powerful or stronger wizard could have fooled it. Magic way beyond the talent of a fourth year,” Moody said like they were all idiots.

“What are you saying,” Bagman wondered.

“I’m _saying_ that this tournament has a history of its champions dying. It was no accident that Harry Potter’s name, a fourteen year old, came out of that goblet,” Moody explained. The room was in silence. It seemed that no one could comprehend the idea that someone would go to such great lengths to kill The Boy Who Lived.

“You could find twelve different ways that your eggs could kill you before you even got up in the morning! Don’t push your insanity onto the rest of us,” Karkaroff spat.

“My paranoia has saved me more times than you have murdered under the Dark Lords orders, or have you already conveniently forgotten?”

“Alastor,” Dumbledore warned.

“However Mr. Potter’s name got into the goblet it is too late now. He is bound by its magical contract and must compete.” Bagman said gravely.

“The is outrageous!” Madame Maxine stamped her foot. “We should get a second champion to make it fair.”

“I already said, the goblet has gone out and won’t be lit until the next tournament,” Bagman repeated.

They argued with one another leaving the champions to sit in silence. Eventually, they all realized they weren’t getting anywhere and Dumbledore told the champions to disperse and they would discuss it another time.

Cedric and Harry walked side by side on their way back to their respective dorms. There was an awkward silence between them. Harry was still in shock and did not really want to face his dorm mates.

“So,” Cedric started unable to hold back his curiosity. “How did you get your name in the goblet?”

“I didn’t do it,” Harry had a feeling he was going to end up saying that a lot.

“Oh yeah right,” Cedric said as if he didn’t believe him. They turned down a corridor and Cedric started walking the other way. “Well, see you I guess.”

At the Gryffindor common room, Harry was greeted with loud cheer and congratulations.

“I can’t believe a Gryffindor gets to compete!”

“How’d you do it Harry?”

“What do you think the first task will be?”

No one wanted to hear that he didn’t put his name in the goblet. He was pushed and shoved in all directions so people could congratulate him or shake his hand. When he finally escaped into the boy’s dorm, he found that Ron was sitting on the edge of his bed not looking at anything.

“Can you believe this? I was hoping I was going to get a normal year this year,” Harry groaned.

“Yeah,” Ron mumbled still not looking at anything. Harry changed into his pajamas and got ready for bed. “How did you do it,” Ron suddenly asked.

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You can’t really believe them do you? You know that I would never actually put my name in the goblet.”

“Do I,” Ron challenged. “I think you’ve been really enjoying all the attention you have been getting lately.”

“You’re joking,” Harry said in disbelief.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot actually. You must have really loved all the attention you got from everyone after the world cup. Being Moody’s new pet isn’t enough for you. You had to just put your name in the goblet. Now, the whole school will be talking be talking about you. Not to mention the eternal glory you’ll be getting or some shit like that,” Ron raved.

“Is that what you really think of me? After everything we’ve been through,” Harry argued. “Fine. Just fine. I don’t suppose you’ve considered the fact that someone may be trying to kill me?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Mad-eye,” Ron snorted.

Harry’s anger was at its peak. He was heart-broken and enraged at the same time. “I never thought you’d be the one to stab me in the back. So much for Gryffindor loyalty right?” Harry turned over and closed his bed curtains. Ron did not respond.

An hour later, the other boys slowly started making their way to their beds and turning out their lights. Ron, however, kept his on the remainder or the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every one who has commented. I feel so honored that people like this story. I truly thought that no one would like it!  
> I will try my best to update at minimum once a month.   
> If anyone would like to follow me on tumblr I usually post updates on how my stories are doing on there!  
> jojoisjelly.tumblr.com  
> Thank you for reading! don't forget to comment!


	6. Help is needed. Help is received.

Those who celebrated last night in Gryffindor tower seemed to be the only ones to take the news with a good attitude. The rest of the school whispered, glared and even openly mocked him as Harry walked by. Those few who were indifferent to the whole spectacle at the Triwizard Tournament, noticed that Harry was getting thinner and thinner as time went by. The only meals he had been able to keep down were those he shared with his favorite professor.

            He had often pretended to eat in the Great Hall, and then sneak food in his backpack for when he thought he could stomach it. Harry didn’t have to do that anymore. With the school buzzed about a fourth champion, he did not dare show his face in the Great Hall in fear of something else happening to him.

            Hermione had spent most of her time with Ron. She had been trying her hardest to convince him that Harry needed his help, and that he was being ridiculous with his behavior. Harry would be lying if he said he didn’t need his best friend. He was already under so much stress that he didn’t know if he could take it on his own.

            The only person who was willing to partner with him in class was Neville. Harry was thankful that Neville was willing to be seen next to him, he just wished that Neville was even a little bit better at potions. “Harry I’m so sorry I didn’t mean too,” Neville pleaded after their potion melted their cauldron. “I don’t know what happened.” The Slytherins poorly hid their snickering as they watched the professor angrily walk towards them.

            “Its alright Neville,” Harry assured him as Snape vanished the mess in front of them.

            “Do you two idiots think that this is funny? Blowing up cauldrons in my classroom?”  Snape interrogated. Neither one of the boys answered him. Neville was too terrified, and Harry just didn’t have the energy. “Tell me, what is the reason for your incompetence?” Still they remained silent. “Well,” Snape snapped.

            “It’s my fault sir,” Neville bravely spoke up. “I didn’t understand the recipe.”

            “Well then it is your partner’s job to explain it to you isn’t it Mr. Potter?” Snape glared at Harry and he still said nothing. “Isn’t it Mr. Potter?”  Harry did not even look at the professor. “Clean up the rest of this mess. I want two pages on potion lab safety from each of you by next class. Get started.” Snape sneered. “And ten points from Gryffindor for your disrespect Potter.”

            A soft knock was heard at the classroom door, and Collin Creevy peaked his head in.

“Sir, I was told to get Harry Potter.” Colin said shyly.

“He can leave when class is over.” Snape said unkindly.

“But sir, all the champions are called. They are taking photographs for the daily prophet.” Collin informed him. Harry tried to hide the look of pure embarrassment on his face. Across the room, Ron clenchted his fists and glared at the wall.

“Fine! Take him out of my sight,” Snape yelled. Harry grabbed his things and raced out the door. He followed Collin out of the dungeons and up the grand staircase.

“Wow Harry, it’s so cool that you get to be the Hogwarts champion! I mean other than Cedric Diggory who is obviously the real champion. But I mean that its cool that Gryffindor will be represented.” Collin babbled all the way to their destination. Harry said nothing exept and acknowledgement in agreement or disagreement. “Well here we are. Good luck Harry. I wish I could go in I could-“

“Bye Collin,” Harry interrupted. He slipped inside the door to escape the chatty boy and found himself in a room with the other champions, and a few other people. One person he never really expected to see again. “Mr. Olivander,” Harry greeted in surprise.

“Hello again Mr. Potter,” he smiled.

“Before we begin why don’t we have a few interviews? Youngest first,” a woman with short, blonde, curly hair announced as she dragged harry into a small room, which really shouldn’t be called a room.

“It’s a broom cupboard.” Harry observed.

“Yes it would seem so.” The woman replied sarcastically. She sat them both down awkwardly, opened her small purse and took out a notebook and a floating peacock quill. “Testing. This is Rita Skeeter with Hogwarts champion Harry Potter…” on their own, the quill and notepad started copying what Rita said although, it wasn’t exactly a perfect copy….

“So, Harry tell me, what made you decide to enter the tournament?” Rita questioned.

“No, I didn’t enter.” Harry denied.

“Of course you didn’t,” Rita winked. “What was it like having your name come out of the Goblet of Fire?”

“I didn’t enter,” Harry said a little more forcefully.

“Harry love, everyone loves a rebel.” Rita giggled.

Harry’s face turned white, and he stood up. “I think that’s enough.”

“Why? We haven’t even really gotten to the good questions,” Rita exclaimed. Harry opened the door and darted away from the woman. He went over and sat next to the other champions waiting for Bagman to speak. Soon after, the headmasters and headmistress walked in and began chatting quietly amongst themselves.

“Welcome everyone to the weighing of the wands!” Bagman announced. “If we could go ahead and get started so we won’t take any more time away from the champion’s education than is need. Now, why don’t we go with ladies first?  Ms. Delacour, if you would just step up here.” Fleur stepped up to Mr. Olivander and handed him her wand.

Mr. Olivander gave it a short flick and light blue birds flew out of the end of it. “Yes, it seems to be in fine condition,” he said when he handed the wand back to her. Fleur sat back down in her seat and Victor Krum was called up next. Mr. Olivander conjured a glass of wine with victors wand “cheers,” he smiled  before taking a sip making a few people laugh.  Cedric handed his wand to Mr. Olivander next who conjured a bouquet of flowers and then handed it to Madame Maxime. With Harry’s wand, fireworks exploded in all kinds of colors and shapes that held endless beauty.

“Well then how about some pictures for the daily prophet,” Rita announced. The champions were lined up one by one to take photographs. Harry noted that none of the other champions were asked for an interview, and it only seemed to make him irritated. Finally they were dismissed and Harry was first out of the door.

Dumbledore watched Harry leave with a tired expression. He truly wished that he could help the boy but it was against the Triwizard rules. The headmaster from each school was only allowed to help one champion, which of course was the one champion from their school. It had never been a problem before now. The old headmaster had noticed how Alastor Moody had been taking an interest in the boy. Perhaps the retired auror could represent him since he had no one else. The Hogwarts professor made his way to the Defense Professors office and lightly tapped on the door.

A grunt of “just a moment,” a few clonks of a heavy boot, and moody answered the door. “Yes?” he grumbled.

“I was hoping I could have a quick word,” the headmaster inquired.

“Of course Albus,” Moody let the headmaster into his office, and shut the door behind him. One glass of firewhiskey and an explanation later, and moody accused “Isn’t that cheating?”

“Not at all. It is an unwritten rule that the headmasters help their champions. Although I cannot help two champions at once, it would make the other headmasters think that we were plotting against them,” Albus smiled.

“Why don’t you help potter then,” Moody questioned.

“Cedric Diggory is the true Hogwarts champion. I fear that too many people would feel that I was playing favorites,” the headmaster admitted. “However, I feel that Mr. Potter would be ever grateful if he got to have his new favorite professor help him with the tasks to come.” Moody raised an eyebrow at the bait the headmaster so obviously dangled in front of him. “You would be a judge as well,” the headmaster continued. “If you don’t want the job I’m sure Severus would be more than happy too-”

“Fine,” Moody interrupted. “Alright I’ll do it. That bastard will make his life worse.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore clapped his hands together and stood up. “I’ll start informing everyone right away!” Before Moody could reply, Dumbledore had already stood up and started making his way out of the office so Moody could not change his mind.

The Headmaster thought that Harry and Moody’s relationship was an unexpected and wonderful surprise. Harry got to have more stories of his parents however strange Alastor may tell them, and Alastor got to have a new protégé. Albus knew that he had been looking for one for a while now.

The Headmaster also knew that as long as Harry was with the ex-auror, nothing could harm him. He would prepare Harry for the tasks to come, and make sure he knew what he was facing. That lifted a huge weight off of the old headmaster’s shoulders. Feeling accomplished, he made his was back down to his office to try that new muggle candy that Professor McGonagall had given him with a smile on his face.

Moody waited until their regular meetings to tell him the news. Harry had been confusing to him how upset he was. “How could the whole school believe I actually put my name in the goblet? I don’t want eternal glory. I’m sick of being put in the spot light. Why can’t they just leave me alone,” Harry ranted. “Don’t these people have anything better to do than watch a bunch of kids die in a tournament?”

“Not really,” Moody chimed in. “Don’t ever underestimate the public’s love of gossip Harry. They will do anything to keep themselves entertained even for just a few minutes. Especially if that means they can ignore the threat of death hanging over their heads. You wouldn’t believe the things people did in the last war to keep themselves entertained.”

Harry picked at the half eaten sandwich in front of him. “Eat. You’re getting to thin.” Moody commanded.  He watched Harry take a few bites before asking “How much have you been eating since you came back to school?”

Harry stopped mid bite, a stunned expression on his face. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve watched you shrink since I arrived at this school. I’ve watched you sneak food away from the great hall only to throw most of it away later,” Moody lectured.

“I just…I just don’t like eating in the great hall with all of those people. It’s too crowded and too noisy,” Harry admitted.

“Is that all,” Moody admitted.

Harry didn’t answer. He was afraid that the professor would stop their meetings if Moody found out he wasn’t eating. If Hermione ever found out what he was doing, she would make him face his fears, or force him to eat in the great hall with everyone else. That’s what she wanted to do back at the burrow when he wouldn’t eat with the Weasleys, and she always looked at him with disappointment when he refused their offer. If Moody started making him eat with the other students, he couldn’t do it. The only way he had been surviving these last weeks was because of the meals he ate with his professor, if that stopped…

“Lucy for you I have a solution,” Moody said bringing Harry’s attention back to Moody.

“Oh no here it comes,” Harry thought dreadfully.

“The headmaster came to me and asked me to help you in the tournament.” Moody grinned.

“Wait, what?” Harry stammered.

“Each champion needs someone to guide them through the tournament. Now usually that is the headmasters but since there is already another Hogwarts champion…”

“Dumbledore can’t help me. But, they asked you?” Harry asked.

“Yes, and that means we are going to have to increase our meetings if you want to catch up,” Moody had taken out a piece of paper and began writing something down. “You’re going up against champions who are far more advanced than you. You’ll need to train long and hard if you want to have a chance to survive this tournament. And if it makes you more comfortable to eat in here then we can do that too, you look like a good breeze could snap you in half.”

Harry couldn’t believe it. Not only was he not going to starve to death, but he had hope that the tournament wasn’t going to kill him either. In a fit of joy Harry hugged his favorite professor as tight as he could. When he realized what he had done he jumped back and stammered out an apology. Moody had a strange look on his face. “It’s alright lad. Here,” he handed harry the paper. “You better get going.”

When Harry left, Alastor Moody’s face broke out into a huge grin. He couldn’t wait to tell his master the good news. Spending more time with Harry was something he desperately wanted, but never knew how to get without drawing suspicion. He was frustrated that he couldn’t spend time with Harry as his true self but it would soon all be worth it. He just needed to be more patient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the comments and reviews! Its Finals season so chapters have been coming up slow. But yes I have more written I just need time to type them up.   
> Grammar and things like that are not my strong point so there will be some mistakes I bet.   
> I post updates on Tumblr if anyone is interested in that. :) Jojoisjelly.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave me a review and tell me if i need to fix anything! I have never written a story of this genre before :(


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